a difference

I’ve done much listening and some
reading
and it seems to me
that the modern composers
(at least in my country)
are mostly university-sponsored
and their work lacks that
old desperate
romanticism and
gamble.

I think of the old boys
in the old days of Europe–
it’s true that many of them were
sponsored by the so-called
Nobility
but there were a whole
pack of them who
starved
went mad or
suicided–
their lives were the ultimate sacrifice to
their work
and
pragmatically speaking
this might seem
foolish
but I feel that
it was pretty damned endearing–also
fairly gutty–and
the end result
showed
in what they left
behind.

a man tends to lie
less
when he is starving and
tinkering at the edge of
madness–

that is, most of the
time.

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1985
Source
Original manuscript